


When The Sun Shines On The Styx

by ScarletDrizzle



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Eventual clexa babies, F/F, Falling In Love, Fluff, Good Boy Cerberus, Greek Mythology AU, Hades!Lexa, I dont know I just find soft Hades Lexa so cute, Persephone!Clarke, it kills me, not slow burn, soft lexa
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:34:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24115090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarletDrizzle/pseuds/ScarletDrizzle
Summary: Greek Mythology AU.A retelling of the classic tale of Hades and Persephone, as Lexa and Clarke. Next update coming soon (sorry for the delay, folks!)“You should go now, my sunbright.” Lexa said against Clarke’s hair, sighing into it even as she held her close, “The darkness this side of the Styx is no place for you. You should go home.”“What if I don’t want to go home?" Clarke asked back, stubborn as always, "What if I alreadyamhome?”“Contrary to the myths, I have been cursed with a heart, Clarke. Do not play with it, I beg of you...”ORCerberus lets in an uninvited Goddess into the Underworld, and Lexa's life changes in a way even the Oracles could not have predicted.
Relationships: Clarke Griffin & Lexa, Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Comments: 55
Kudos: 299





	1. Midnight I

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, hope you enjoy this ride, it's been a joy to write! Unlike my other story, which is more of a gargantuan slow-burn, this is going to be a much tighter, contained story. Expect updates every other week!
> 
> **Greek Mythology notes:**
> 
>   * This story strays from canon mythology in several places. For one, Persephone is the daughter of Demeter (Abby) and Apollo (Jake), not Zeus. Because Zeus is an asshole.
>   * Most deities in this story have a ‘Myth’ name, and a ‘Real’ name. 
>   * I deviate in some places from how the Underworld works in canon mythology, EG, who adjudicates the underword, how reincarnation works, other smaller stuff. Also I don't know what title human souls call Hades by, so I just went with "your grace", correct me if I'm wrong because I couldn't find anything specific!
>   * Fruits (eg pomegranate) don’t bind you to the underworld. I’ll be going a different route where that’s concerned.
>   * The time period this is based in is... ambiguous. It mostly agrees with ancient greece but occasionally uses some modern terminology. I don't know, when you think about it Gods are really ageless... 
> 


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Terms in a nutshell:**
>   * **Elysium:** Heaven equivalent. A part of the Underworld.
>   * **Asphodel:** Somewhere between Heaven/Hell, indifferent and meaningless afterlife. Also part of the Underworld.
>   * **Tartarus:** Hell equivalent. Also part of the Underworld.
>   * **Thalanos:** God of Death.
>   * **Nyx:** Goddess of the Night.
>   * **Dionysus:** God of Wine.
>   * **Demeter:** Goddess of Harvest and Fertility.
>   * **Apollo:** God of the Sun and Healing.
> 


For the purveyor of the Underword, master of shadows, and God of the dead, Hades was having a surprisingly good day.

She was sat somewhat lazily on her throne of cold stone, feeling slightly less tired and bored that usual, which in itself would be cause for celebration. But no, that was not the culprit to her good mood on this particular day. 

"No wonder Dionysus is so full of himself," she murmured as she sipped at the wine that had been offered to her earlier that day. Wine that tasted a million times better that the deadly concoction her people created here from the sour grapes and rank fruit that grew in the darkness of death. To say it was _rare_ of her to get a taste of the mortal world was an understatement, since the people rarely ever thought to offer sacrifices in her name.

Why would they, Hades thought, when they all considered themselves immortal in the naive way only humans could. The few that did think to send offerings her way only did so in poor taste. Vengeful idiots wishing for the death of their rivals, or grieving lovers that begged her for the return of their other half. But those were offerings that she refused to eat, in fear that she would choke on them. Because she could not do as they asked. She could not wish death on those that were not ready, that was Thalanos' domain. And she _would not_ bring back those that had been lost, because that should be no God's domain. No. Her place was here, sitting atop the throne to the Underword, judging the deeds of those that passed through the river Styx, and determining their fate.

And yet today, she had been offered a platter she could not refuse in good faith. Partially because it was for a favor that was within her purview to grant, and largely due to the sheer aroma emanating from it. The offering lay before her now, begging her to devour it as was her right. A basket overflowing with fruit and bread, and delicacies she had not tasted often enough to recall the flavor of. But it was far from an extravagant spread. There was no gold or silver to pretty up the hidden intentions. It was simple, humble, perhaps even worshipful. And it was all for the sake of the young man that currently stood quivering before her.

"Tell me your name, boy." Hades asked him carefully, neither her face nor her voice betraying any emotion.

"K-Kleobis, your grace," he murmured almost inaudibly, bent halfway over in his attempt to no doubt beg for his soul.

"Your mother loves you so, doesn't she?" she asked carefully, watching his face as she plucked a grape from the offerings, humming at the sweetness that was forever absent in the harvests of her realm. The boy simply nodded nervously, head still bend down, and she frowned at her inability read his emotions.

"Raise your head when I speak to you, Kleobis." She asked sternly, narrowing her eyes as she studied his form. He was a farm boy, she could tell from the marks along his jaw where the chickens liked to nick at him, and the hay along along his shins that showed he had been working the stables when he died. She gazed into his eyes, impressed that he did not back away, and saw in them the years his family had spent praying to Demeter for a fruitful harvest, and a growing family. And with just one peek she knew quite clearly, as she always did, what kind of man he was.

"You have not lived a life of luxury," she concluded, directing his gaze to the impressive platter presented before her, "Tell me, how much value do these offerings hold to your family?"

His gasp was audible when he laid eyes on the delectable offerings his mother had made for her, and his face seemed to fall in dismay. "It is six months’ worth of food for us, your grace." He croaked out in surprise, hints of tears in his eyes.

"And do you know why your mother sent this to me?" Hades asked indifferently, plucking another grape from the basket.

"To request my passage to Elysium..."

"That is what I would assume, yes," she nodded in confirmation, "But your family has never laid an offering to me before this… Nor have any of you prayed to me, or anyone but the goddess Demeter.” She narrowed her eyes at him, unimpressed. “Tell me, then. Why should I find it in myself to allow you into Elysium?"

"I..." The boy stuttered, and Hades readied herself for a torrent of begging and groveling, "I would ask that you do not, your grace. I would ask that you find it in yourself to return her offering." He trembled as he spoke, clearly struggling with the words, but refusing to back down, "She needs it more than me, your grace, our lords have been asking for their share and—"

"Enough!" Hades rumbled, and the chamber trembled the slightest when she raised her voice. The boy, however, remained steadfast in his request, meeting her furious gaze with nothing but resolution. "I care not for your mortal affairs," she scoffed indignantly, "You would ask me to regurgitate the wine your mother promised me, to throw away the food she offered to her God?" she rumbled dangerously, "I warn you, it would cost you the chance at anything greater than Asphodel..."

"I wish no disrespect, your grace," the boy dared to argue, "I wish only for her survival, and my siblings'. I will be happy to spend my afterlife in the meadows of Asphodel to ensure it."

But they will not survive, Hades wanted to scream at him. They would die. Just as he died. _Just as they all died._

"Send it back." Hades decided after a few more moments of consideration, rising from her cold throne to make her way towards the boy, "I have no need for mortal offerings to know what kind of man you are, Kleobis." The boy in question was once again bowing to the ground, nearly kissing her feet in his attempt to please her.

"Rise, boy," she ordered, the hardness now gone from her voice, "There is no need for a citizen of Elysium to prostrate before me..."

He did not rise, just as she had expected, but instead melted further into the ground, sobbing his relief and happiness into the tiles.

"Rise, I said." Hades reminded him a bit more sternly, looking into his red-rimmed eyes as he did. "You are nothing but a farmboy, destined for neither greatness not evil," she reminded him, "And yet your selfless love has marked you worthy in the eyes of this court." She raised a hand at him when his lips opened to thank her. She did not need his thanks, not for something that was owed to him in a just world.

"When the time comes I can only hope your mother is as pure of heart as you are, and it should be my pleasure to reunite you both in Elysium..." Hades smiled at him then, letting the mask she wore as an adjudicator of the afterlife fall as she squeezed his shoulder, and watched him dissipate into the bliss that was Elysium, his mother’s offerings also disappearing back where they came from.

Hades sighed, collapsing back into her throne. She could only wish she had chugged down the wine while she’d had it in her hands…

And just like that, it seemed as though her day would returned to being a perfectly mellow, boring one, like all the others before it. She had just beckoned the guards with the curl of her finger, awaiting the next poor soul that would no doubt beg her for favors they could never dream of being worthy for, when her most trusted adviser and friend appeared by her side.

"You are bending the rules again, Lexa," the deity known as Nyx warned her, which seemed to be the only thing she was ever capable of doing. " _Your_ rules", she reminded Lexa carefully, "He was a farmboy as you said, he had achieved nothing notable enough to deserve Elysium."

"He held his own against me in a way even you do not dare to, Anya," Lexa, known more commonly as Hades, chuckled from her throne, waving away the servants after they dropped by a tray of familiar, sour grapes. "Perhaps I am bending the rules," she allowed, "But he holds no relation to me, or to Olympus, so they cannot accuse me of bias..." That was why she had chosen to take this position after all, back when she and her brothers had taken down the Titans, and claimed the world for themselves. Lexa had been more than happy to allow Zeus to claim the skies, and let Poseidon have the seas.

Because _here_ was where the true power lay. Here, where she was made to decide between who was worthy and who was not. Here, where any weaker and more vulnerable God than herself would operate through nepotism and selfishness, allowing the unworthy to pass by unscathed and possibly attempting to bring them back to the living. And, yes, perhaps Lexa was imperfect, and allowed herself to bend the rules with a handful of mortals who held no relation to her. But at least she _had_ rules, which was more than she could say for either of her brothers.

"Bias, no," Nyx - Anya - agreed, "But thinking with your heart, perhaps."

"Do not let Mount Olympus hear you speak, my dear Nyx," Lexa chuckled playfully, even as the taste of sour grapes made it difficult not to grimace, "They would think it blasphemous that you say I have a heart to think with at all..."

"I am being serious, Lexa."

"As am I," Lexa replied, while wearing a smile that made it quite clear she was not, "perfectly serious, can't you tell?"

She paused in her usual quipping match with Anya as she caught a glimpse of dark fur at the other end of the throneroom, and smiled in welcomed surprise. “What do you think, my little one?” Lexa beckoned, watching as Cerberus padded towards her, significantly smaller than his full form, but still as tall as a horse. “Did that boy deserve to waste away in Asphodel as Nyx seems to argue?” She asked playfully as she pet the dog on one of his three heads, the smile never leaving her face.

It was a rarity to see Cerberus while she worked, since this was the time when the gates of the Underworld most needed his guarding **.** But on these rare days when he could sense her being in high spirits, he had made it a habit to sneak back to her throne, eager to be a part of her day being a little brighter. And knowing, of course, that she was far less likely to be angry at him for leaving his post when she found him so utterly adorable…

“You are a sneaky one, aren’t you Cerberus?” Lexa scolded him playfully, chuckling as he lay his heads in her lap and looked up at her with three pairs of eyes all begging for affection. “Your eyes are bribery, you know? They should be outlawed,” she sighed fondly, petting two of his heads, and letting the third one nuzzle against her face. She let his playfulness bleed into her, laughing as he licked at her, and tried in vain to ignore Anya’s exasperated attempts to remind her of their schedule. But as annoying as she was, and she was _plenty_ annoying, this time Anya also happened to be right…

“You should not be leaving your post so often, my little one,” Lexa reminded him more seriously, softening at the little whines he gave her in response. She could not tell if it was in response to her scolding, or if he could sense that she would soon be asking him to return to the gates, but it melted her heart just the same. “No begging,” she stood her ground, resisting his whines with some effort, but still giving him one last series of pets before he would have to leave, “Go on now, my boy. Chase down all the poor souls that decided to sneak through the gates while you were away…”

When Cerberus moved away, however, it was not in the direction of the gates. Instead, all three of his heads jerked towards the courtyards outside her throneroom, his noses sniffing with purpose. “What is it, boy?” She asked as his lips curled back to start a cautious growl, and just as he often knew what she was feeling, it was easy for her to translate the series of rumbles coming from his mouths.

“Someone is here, who does not belong…” Lexa explained to Anya, who was was seconds away from calling on the furies. “Don’t,” Lexa stopped her, rising from her throne for the first time in what felt like years, “I wish to handle this one on my own.” She supposed it was as close as she would get to taking Cerberus out for a walk, and truth be told it had been some time since she had gone to check on her courtyards and gardens…

“But the next subject—”

“Can wait while I resolve a potential threat to my realm,” Lexa bit back, narrowing her eyes at Anya to see if she would challenge her further. The other God only sighed at her, as if she were indulging her, and bowed in acquiescence.

* * *

It was not difficult to pinpoint the source of the disturbance once she was out in the courtyard. She need only follow the loud voices of her palace guards, and the competing yells of another voice, this one foreign to Lexa. Cerberus followed along behind her as she made her way to the commotion, her vision blocked by the overgrown shrubs around the palace. He was much quieter now, compared to his earlier growls. Calm and calculating, carefully analyzing the situation for a threat, much as Lexa was.

When her guards came in sight, however, it did not take much further analysis for Lexa to conclude that this particular situation was very, _very_ bad...

“What in Styx are you doing here?” Lexa all but shouted at the Goddess in front of her, disbelief and anger coating her voice. The Goddess in question opened her mouth to answer, looking a bit taken aback by Lexa’s harsh tone, but cut herself off with a wince before she could. Lexa’s eyes darted to where one of her guards had thought it sensible to grab her by the wrist in an attempt to drag her away, no doubt scared to have caused a scene big enough to force Lexa to intrude.

Oh, but Lexa would give them _something_ to be scared of soon enough if they didn’t—

“Unhand her,” Lexa growled at the offending guard, and she did not think she had ever heard quite so much venom in her voice, “or have you _no idea_ whom it is you dare to touch?” Cerberus was growling along behind her, his teeth bared dangerously as he echoed her displeasure. He may not fully understand the significance of what was happening, nor did he recognize the Goddess beyond knowing she did not belong to the Underworld, but he knew that Lexa was angry, and that was enough for him to be doubly so.

“All of you, get out of my sight.” She growled at the guards, her glare sharp enough to send them running. She would talk to Nyx soon about their punishment, but for now her thoughts were only occupied by the Goddess before her.

Lexa recognized her as Persephone, daughter of the Gods Demeter and Apollo. Though it was the identity of the girl’s mother that worried her more so than her father. Demeter, who had always been known to despise Lexa with an intensity beyond reason, and took every chance to make her distaste known. Lexa worriedly scanned Persephone’s arms for bruises or any sign of mishandling, knowing that if this Goddess decided to run back to her mother and claim assault at the hands of Hades, Demeter would not hesitate to believe it, and would further spread the lie as truth. And the last thing she needed was to provide the Olympians more fuel in their baseless distaste for her, and to create more false myths that painted her as a heartless creature of death.

Lexa released a breath after concluding that Persephone still looked healthy as ever, and let some of the tension leave her body. She met Persephone’s eyes for a brief second, and had to repress the urge to ask the Goddess if she was okay. Because the less she interacted with the girl, the fewer opportunities she gave Persephone to paint Lexa as a monster.

“At ease, boy,” Lexa turned to where Cerberus still stood in attention, his eyes studying Persephone carefully, “You can go back now.” He turned to her at the command, all six of his eyes looking at her in search of confirmation. He was clearly hesitant to leave his master with this stranger, even if she was not a threat. And as comforting as it was to know that Cerberus always had her best interests in heart, Lexa knew this interaction would go much more smoothly without a three-headed beast potentially scaring the Goddess of vegetation.

She kept an eye on Cerberus as he padded away from her, smiling when he turned back every few steps to make sure his master was safe. Satisfied that he would make his way back, Lexa returned to the matter of hand, struggling with what to say to the young Goddess before her.

Persephone, evidently, decided to beat her to the punch.

“You know me?” the Goddess was asking her, her eyes bright and curious, as if she was not standing in a foreign realm, and had not been seconds away from being dragged away at the hands of her guards. “You were talking to them like you know me.” Persephone explained, looking at her in a way that made it obvious she did not recognize her as Hades.

That was good at least, Lexa sighed in relief, though the fact that Persephone did not know who she was did pain her just the slightest.

“What are you doing here?” Lexa simply repeated, ignoring Persephone’s question.

“Oh, um.” Persephone faltered under her gaze, as if she had not been expecting to be asked, “My mother said an offering had been misplaced and sent here.” She explained sweetly, the brightness of her smile so much at odds with the sunless skies of the Underworld. “She asked me to retrieve it from Hades. I'm sure it was a simple misunderstanding…”

“Misplaced, is that right?” Lexa echoed the words, suddenly finding the situation much more humorous, even if it was somewhat aggravating. “That sounds like Demeter, I would say.” She chuckled with a nod, regarding Persephone curiously, “But why would she let _you_ go retrieve it, when she would sooner inflict a famine on the world than expose you to this wretched place.” The words tasted like ash as she said them, because this place was not _wretched_. To Lexa, this place was _home_. And yet she did not delude herself into thinking that the Olympians would think of it the same.

“Well... you see…” Persephone trailed, and the aversion of her gaze and subtle biting of her lip reminded Lexa of many a subject that had stood before her and attempted to lie. 

“You didn't tell her you were coming, did you?” Lexa hissed in disapproval, her face paling. This was worse. So, so much worse than having Demeter believe Hades had bruised her daughter. Because now Demeter would think Hades had _abducted_ her daughter, and trapped her in the Underworld for some nefarious purpose. No, the thought of such a heinous lie spreading made her feel sick. “You need to _leave,_ Persephone,” Lexa stressed to the Goddess, grabbing her by the hand in her haste to resolve this exponentially worsening situation.

“No!” Lexa was surprised by the suddenness of the exclamation, and the forcefulness with which Persephone ripped her hand from Lexa’s. She turned back to the Goddess with an exasperated sigh, her frown fading instantly as she took in just how upset Persephone looked.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do!” Persephone hissed at her, moving closer to poke Lexa squarely in the chest, “Not you or my mother. I’m just barely younger than the dawn of time, and I _get_ to make my own decisions. And _you_ —” _poke_ “—don’t get to treat me like some _minor God_ —” _poke_ “—and _tell me_ what to do!”

All Lexa could think after such an exchange was just how much she underestimated the pain that could be delivered using a _poke_ _…_ It was a torture device like no other she had encountered.

 _That_ , and the fact that Lexa was clearly not the only one who had felt belittled at the hands of Persephone’s mother.

“I’m sorry, truly.” Lexa answered, lowering Persephone’s finger from it’s poking position, and holding her hand as she attempted to calm her. “I didn’t mean to order you around like that. I just meant to say that it would be better for both of us if you left…” Lexa winced at how offensive her own words sounded, though it was not her fault she had little experience with trying to be polite. She squeezed Persephone’s hand as she watched her begin to calm down, seeing a familiar resentment shining in her eyes, “Is that how she makes you feel?” Lexa prodded, and neither of them had to ask who she was talking about, “like you are some _minor God_?”

Persephone’s hesitant nod was enough to crumble the last of Lexa’s stoicism, and all the concern she felt for her own image began to make way for a growing concern for the young Goddess. She still wanted Clarke to leave and let Lexa wash her hands of the incident, but she realized now that it was no use asking her to do anything in such a disheveled state.

“You are not a minor God, Persephone,” Lexa assured her, resisting the urge to smile, because they were not quite familiar enough for that yet, “I am sure you get more offerings in a year than I do in a century…”

Persephone turned back to look at her at those words, regarding her curiously once again. “So you _do_ know me,” she concluded, looking a bit confused.

Lexa sighed, and decided it was as good a time as any to let the other shoe drop. “Of course. How did you expect to retrieve your mother's offerings when you do not know whom to retrieve them from?”

Persephone balked at that, and looked her over as if for the first time. “ _You're_ Hades?” she hissed in disbelief.

“I am trying very hard not to be offended, and yet I am not quite succeeding…”

“I-I mean,” Persephone backtracked in the face of Lexa’s narrowed eyes, “ _Of course_ you're Hades. I should have realized it with how you confronted the guards,” she regarded Lexa carefully, looking confused as she took in her appearance, “But… you are a woman...”

“I am a God before I am anything else, girl, be mindful of that.” Lexa reminded her sternly, not taking kindly to being insulted in such a way. She supposed it was not a surprise to know that her sex did not come up often as a point of discussion Olympus, not that _she_ came up any more often. In addition to that, most of the mortal world had automatically sculpted her as a man, and she had never cared enough to argue the point with them. “The myths are never very accurate when it comes to me,” Lexa explained, hoping Persephone was not the kind to believe everything the world told her about Hades, and wouldn’t be frightened of her now that she knew her identity.

But Persephone did not seem very frightened, only intrigued. And in the face of this much less agitated Goddess, Lexa decided it was finally time to give Persephone what she came for, and send her on her way.

“Very well then.” Lexa cleared her throat to return to the topic at hand. “Go tell your mother her offerings are no longer here, tell her I—” she faltered in the middle of explaining that she had sent them back, because saying so would only confirm Demeter’s belief that the offerings were meant for her. And she did not wish to imagine the wrath Demeter would be willing to inflict onto Kleobis’s family if she did not get them.

“Tell her I devoured them rather happily,” Lexa corrected herself with a smirk, “It is not often I get to partake in the food of the mortal world, after all.” Yes, this was better, she decided. Better for Demeter to be upset with Hades for stealing her offerings, rather than inflict her wrath on the poor mother who had only wanted peace for her son. Demeter's petty vengefulness was only rivaled by Hera, after all, and Lexa had been on the other side of it often enough to know she wouldn’t wish it on her worst enemy.

“Why are you still here?” Lexa asked when Persephone did not move, no doubt sounding a bit rude, but not quite caring either way. “I have told you what you came for. You can leave now.”

Persephone bit her lip the same way she had before, and Lexa almost groaned in exasperation. “I lied,” she admitted with an innocent smile, “I'm not here for the offering...”

“You're not here for the— then what the _Styx_ are you doing in this place, you silly girl?!” Lexa hissed at her, quickly getting tired of these juvenile games.

“Excuse me,” Persephone shot back, indignant, “I am _neither_ of those things.”

Lexa could only sigh, rubbing at her temple as the pieces of this ridiculous puzzle began fitting in place. “ _Please_ don’t tell me you’ve decided to stage some rebellion against your mother, and involved **_me_** in it.”

“She told me I wasn't allowed to sit in on the Olympian council,” Persephone huffed, and the mere mention of Demeter was enough to get her riled up again, “ _Allowed_ , as if I am a child! Millions of farmers depend on me for their livelihood, just like her, but she treats me like an afterthought!” She cut her rant short as she looked at Lexa, her expression softening as she no doubt took in the frustration written on Lexa’s face. “I didn’t mean to involve _you_ specifically, I just… needed to get away for a little while.”

“And you chose the _Underworld_ for your little vacation,” Lexa chuckled in disbelief, wanting to laugh at the absurdity of it all, but sobering up as she took in Persephone’s deepening frown. “You should not take offense to what your mother said,” she reassured her, hoping to mend this bridge and send Persephone back home, “I am not ‘ _allowed_ _’_ to attend the council either. And if _I_ am a child, then you must be an infant.”

“Yes, but _you're—_ ” Persephone started her retort, before abruptly cutting herself off and pursing her lips.

“Banished." Lexa completed for the other goddess, “Banished from Olympus. You can say it. It will not burn you to speak the words. I have heard them spoken to me plenty.” 

“I... I'm sorry.” Persephone replied, her smile empathetic, and her words oddly comforting to Lexa. “I suppose we’re both misfits, aren't we?”

“You more than I, considering we are in my realm,” Lexa agreed, before a thought occurred to her, “Speaking of, how did you get past the gates without consulting me?”

“Oh, I just… walked through them?” Persephone replied, looking a bit confused as to why she wouldn’t be able to pass the gates. It took a second for Lexa to understand why, and she almost wanted to laugh when she realized what had happened. Of course, Lexa thought, it was just her luck that the few minutes Cerberus had left his post in search for 'cuddles' had been enough to let an uninvited Goddess through the gates of the Underworld…

“I don't wish to come between you and your mother's squabbles, Persephone,” Lexa sighed, because as strange and amusing as their exchange had been (and as good as it felt to talk to someone new for the first time in centuries), both Gods knew that this was not the place for Persephone. “You should go home and just forget about all of this,” she tried to reassure the younger Goddess, “Nothing good will ever come of you holding such resentm—”

“Oh Gods, is that an Underworld fruit?!” Persephone exclaimed before Lexa could quite finish, her gaze set on the far end of the courtyard where the unofficially named ‘Tree from Tartarus’ (so named lovingly by Lexa herself) stood heavy with ripe fruit. “I've never seen anything like it!” And before Lexa knew quite what was happening, she turned to find nothing but air in the spot where Persephone had once been standing.

“Wha— Wait! Persephone, where are you goin— Don't run from me!”

“This _grows_ here?” Persephone was regarding the tree with wonder, curiosity palpable in her voice as she reached up to pick the fruit, “I could never have even imagined—”

“Careful! Don't get too—" Lexa winced as Persephone split the fruit in half, eager to inspect the insides, "close..." she sighed defeatedly, scrunching her nose in distaste as the reek of the Underworld fruit invaded her senses.

“There’s so much…” Persephone trailed in wonder, seeming only minimally affected by the offensive smell, and turning back to face Lexa with a fire alight in her eyes, “What do you _do_ with it all?”

“Avoid it, mostly.” Lexa grumbled, resisting the urge to cover her face as the smell worsened now that the fruit was in front of her, “As much as one can avoid the stench of death.”

“You've never tried to make anything from it?”

“I do not understand,” Lexa frowned at Persephone, “You cannot make a fruit into anything but a fruit.” Lexa took a second to think about the statement, then nodded to confirm it was true.

“You can if you try hard enough,” Persephone grinned, but Lexa just felt exhausted by the never ending excitement that seemed to fuel this young Goddess.

“Perhaps I do not wish to try at all…”

“The soil here must be different, then,” Persephone remarked, distracted again as she discarded the fruit to kneel down next to the tree and examine the ground.

“It is,” Lexa confirmed, though it was much more complicated than that, since both Asphodel and Elysium had their own ecosystems, and Tartarus was another matter altogether. “Not much grows here, so close to the gates.”

“But things _do_ grow? Underworld fruits and flowers?” Persephone prodded, her smile growing as Lexa nodded hesitantly, “And grain?”

“Only in Asphodel,” Lexa corrected.

“Show me,” was all Persephone said, turning to her as if she expected Lexa to know what that meant.

“Show you what, exactly?” Lexa asked, not at all liking where this was going, when all she ever wanted was to send the girl home to Olympus and get on with her mellow, boring day.

“Everything. It’s all so—” Persephone sighed in awe as she looked around her, as if taking in every little detail for the first time, “I want to see _everything_.”

“Persephone, I can’t just—”

“Clarke,” Persephone corrected, and the name stirred something in Lexa’s chest that she did not want stirred in any way. “You told me not to trust what the myths said about you, so don’t call me the name the myths gave me either.” Persephone — Clarke — smiled at her with welcoming eyes, “What should I call you?”

“Hades,” Lexa replied sternly, because she was not interested in getting any more familiar with the girl than she already had been, “And I will call you _Persephone_.” Lexa rolled her eyes at the Goddess’s frown, “Fine, _Clarke_. But I cannot _show_ you anything Clarke,” she stressed, wanting to stop this madness in its tracks. She racked her brain for a reason that was more substantial than a simple _I don_ _’t want to_ , and came up with, “I don’t have the time! Not when we’ve already spent so long straightening out this whole mess…”

“What if I come back another time?” Clarke asked without skipping beat, and Lexa was more than willing to latch onto those words, because _another time_ meant _not now_.

“If I promise to do that, will you leave?” Lexa asked bluntly, sighing in resignation when the Goddess nodded at her. She would have to make sure such a day never came, of course. Or if it did, that Clarke had forgotten all about it when it did. “A century,” Lexa offered stoically, but Clarke only scoffed at her, narrowed her eyes, and said she would be back in a month, no doubt having figured out her plan. “Six months.” Lexa compromised, because surely even that much time would be enough for the girl to forget about the whole ordeal.

Clarke only smiled back and nodded. “Six months,” she confirmed, and Lexa had the dreadful feeling that she had just walked herself into a promise she could not back out of.

When Clarke left — _finally_ — it was with the promise that she would be back, and Lexa forced it into the back of her mind, deciding to move on with her work and hope the day of her return never came.

“I should have listened to you, Nyx.” Lexa grumbled as she collapsed back into her cold, uncomfortable throne. The room was empty except for a few guards, but she knew that Anya was listening, wherever she was.

“Finally, you speak some truth,” Anya replied with a satisfied smirk as she materialized out of the shadows in the corner, “And why do you think that, exactly?” She asked a bit curiously.

Lexa just sighed from her throne, slouching back as she rubbed at her temple, “Because I _really_ need some of that wine right about now…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cerberus is the best good boy, I will not have any arguments on this matter. It is also Mythologically canon that he enjoys eating honeycakes, which I find _adorable._
> 
>  **Hades rant:** Honestly, Hades gets so much needless shit in Greek Mythology. Like he’s actually legitimately the least problematic of all the Gods. He doesn’t rape anyone or get involved with any God drama, just does his job and doesn’t take no bullshit. He’s also literally the only God who stays faithful to his wife. I stan Hades, no lie.
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are much appreciated! Let me know what you think of the story this far. I can't really stress just how motivating your comments are, even if it's just a couple of words!


	2. Midnight II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone here ask for 8k of uninterrrupted Clexa? No? No one?? Well… uh… tbh I kinda expected someone to say yes so I’m not really sure how to proceed from here… 
> 
> Jokes aside, I’m back a week early cause I couldn't help myself :D Next update should still follow the usual schedule!
> 
> **Terms in a nutshell:**
>   * **Nymph:** Kinda like a wood spirit, but in an anthropomorphic form. Typically shown as childish and playful.
>   * **Pegasus:** Pretty flying horse(s). Think Hercules.
>   * **Nychbloom:** A thing I 100% made up.
> 


The first time Persephone, Goddess of vegetation, stood before her expecting a “tour” of the Underworld, Lexa had not been expecting her to be there at all.

She had not even noticed the time pass, truth be told, and had to confirm with Nyx that it had truly been six months since she had last made that silly promise. Six months during which Clarke had evidently refused to forget about her, while Lexa had done all in her power to do just that. She had sighed in resignation once she knew there was no way out, and curiously asked Clarke once again how she had managed to make her way past Cerberus to get through the gates.

Clarke had simply smirked in response, and reached into her pockets to reveal a delicious looking honeycake.

“I told you to squash those rumors,” Lexa turned to hiss at Anya, outraged that talk of Cerberus’s sweet tooth had made its way to Olympus. “I don’t want every passing soul coming in here with a honeycake,” She continued in a hushed voice, “The _last_ thing we need is for him to gain more weight and become even lazier!”

“It’s okay,” Clarke interrupted her with a grin, evidently amused that Lexa was so concerned about this matter, “I didn’t hear about any rumors.”

“Then how did you know?” Lexa asked, since she was sure she hadn’t let Cerberu’s dietary preferences slip in their brief conversation.

“Cerberus told me,” Clarke shrugged with a smile, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Except it wasn’t, because Cerberus was linked to _Lexa_ , and only _Lexa_ could translate his specific brand of dog-speak.

Lexa regarded Clarke with narrowed eyes, deciding that she was likely just covering up for Anya, and let the argument go. She made sure to give Anya one last glare that said _‘Get rid of the rumors!’_ , before asking Clarke to follow her out of the palace.

“I can only take you one place,” Lexa grumbled as they made their way through the courtyard. She had decided that setting Clarke’s expectations low might make her less likely to want to return.

“Okay,” Clarke said with an easy smile, looking excited to roam the Underworld in whatever capacity Lexa allowed, “But if I come back, will you show me something different again?”

Lexa shrugged in agreement, hoping she wouldn’t have to.

She decided to take Clarke to the closest point of interest she could think of. The hidden gardens Lexa kept a ways away from the courtyard, in a rarely visited area where they would never be disturbed by the less polite inhabitants of the Underworld. Clarke frowned in confusion as she took in the unusual path they were walking, no doubt wondering where they were going, but she never asked further.

It had been some time since Lexa had visited her gardens, so she could not claim to be indifferent to the journey either. To be honest, she was a little excited to see if any interesting hybrids had blossomed in her time away, and wanted to make sure that her gardeners were doing their job maintaining the plants even when she wasn’t looking.

Lexa hear Clarke gasp behind her as they finally approached the gardens, and she couldn’t help but mirror some of her excitement as she took in the sight before her. Hundreds of plants and flowers were arranged around the garden, some filled with color, others black as night, but all of them carefully planted to compliment each other. Lexa simply took a moment to breathe in the _life_ that surrounded her, letting Clarke run around and inspect the flowers on her own. Most of them were relatively uninteresting, normal flowers that had been plucked from Elysium and replanted here. They would all die in about four months in this soil, and would have to be replaced with another identical batch, but for now they looked beautiful. Lexa tried not to think about that part too much, about how hard it was for life to grow in the part of the Underworld she called home. Instead, she walked over to the other side of the garden, and breathed in the fragrance of her favorite flowers.

It was several minutes before Clarke joined her, her face bright and smiling, looking so perfectly content that it was easy to forget that she did not belong to this world.

“These are beautiful.” Clarke said, studying the flowers Lexa was admiring, “I’ve never seen anything like them.”

“Nychblooms,” Lexa explained with a soft smile, happy to talk about her flowers for as long as Clarke wished, “The beauty that grows among death. You cannot find them outside the Underworld.”

“Amazing,” Clarke smiled, taking another look around the garden, “This whole place is just… breathtaking.” She sighed wistfully before turning back to Lexa, “Did you plant everything yourself?”

“No.” Was all Lexa replied, the smile now fading from her lips.

“Let me guess, no time?” Clarke asked with a grin, oblivious to the change in Lexa’s mood. Because time had never been the issue. In fact, Lexa would have happily made as much time as was needed to take care of this garden every week. Even now, she decided to take it upon herself to visit her little garden every couple of weeks. Because time had never been the problem.

Wordlessly, Lexa reached out to pluck one of the Nychblooms from its stem. She brought it closer to her face, twirling the stem as she took in its scent. It took only a few seconds for the Nychbloom to begin to change in her fingers, and by the time she stopped twirling it, what had once been a beautiful flower was nothing more than a wilted mess.

“Because everything that touches me becomes death,” Lexa explained with a sigh, unable to face Clarke quite yet, since she would no doubt be met with a disgusted frown, “And even the darkest Nychbloom contains too much life to survive it.” Part of her had wished — always wished — that perhaps this time would be different. This time, she would be able to hold something living and beautiful in her hands, and not see it die because of her. But in all her years such a thing was yet to happen.

“That’s…” Clarke trailed, seemingly at a loss for words, as most often were. Out of nowhere the other Goddess grabbed at Lexa free hand, holding it palm up for inspection. Lexa turned to her in surprise, and saw only concentration on her face as she studied Lexa’s hand closely, trailing a finger along her palm in a way that had Lexa resisting the urge to pull back. “But you don’t affect the fruit,” Clarke remarked curiously.

“No, I-I suppose not,” Lexa found herself stuttering back, immediately clearing her throat in an attempt to distract from the momentary crack in her composure.

“Huh,” Clarke muttered, her eyes deep in thought, “I wonder if…” she trailed, not illuminating the rest of the thought to Lexa. She spent another moment studying Lexa’s hand, her mind at work, before snapping out of it to return to her somewhat playful demeanor.

“How do you court mortals then if you can’t give them any flowers?” Clarke asked with a smirk, and though the words were clearly meant to be in jest, they triggered memories that caused Lexa to rip her hand out of Clarke’s, her eyes hardening.

“I do not court mortals,” Lexa all but growled, her walls having no trouble coming right back up, “I do not court _anyone_.” She felt a fire in her voice that was only there where she gave her sentences, and found herself glaring at Clarke just as harshly.

“Okay,” was all Clarke replied with, the slight dimming of her smile the only evidence that she had been affected by the outburst. And somehow, Lexa found herself feeling instantly guilty for it, for so suddenly breaking the bubble they had been inhabiting. She was about to open her mouth for an apology when Clarke spoke, “Can I pick some of these?” She asked, touching the Nychblooms fondly, “I want to try to grow them on my own.”

And perhaps it was the lingering guilt of her outburst, but Lexa found that it was surprisingly difficult to say no to the request.

“Of course,” Lexa agreed with a hesitant smile, any residual guilt alleviated by the bright grin on Clarke’s face. She watched Clarke carefully unearth the flowers, when a thought suddenly occurred to her. “Can you keep them safe if you do grow them?” She asked, elaborating when Clarke cast her a confused frown, “I… I do not want them spreading to the mortal world…” As silly as it was, Lexa took some pride in knowing that these flowers were simply _hers_. That they belonged in the Underworld and no where else. And if Clarke did succeed in growing them in Olympus, and let them spread and flourish in the mortal world better than they ever had here… it would be just more happiness ripped from her hands.

“I’ll be careful with them.” Clarke smiled at her, as if she understood exactly what Lexa was trying to say.

Lexa just nodded, not knowing how else to occupy herself as Clarke finished up with the Nychblooms. “Has this been enough to quench your curiosity for the day?” She asked after a few moments, and it was as close to playful as she had ever gotten with the other Goddess.

“No, I want to see more.” Clarke said wistfully, before turning to face her with a resigned smile. “But… I can tell when I’m not welcomed.” The words took Lexa by surprise, and she struggle to come up with a reply.

“No, it’s not that, believe me, I—” Lexa hastened in an attempt to correct her, because as much as she wanted to avoid doing all of this, she had nonetheless never meant to come across as truly inhospitable, “I am not accustomed to visitors, Persephone — Clarke,” she corrected herself, sighing at her own awkwardness “I’m afraid I find it a bit… difficult to be welcoming.”

Clarke nodded at her, her smile returning, and seemed to have accepted the explanation. “But you would still prefer me to leave now, wouldn’t you?” She asked, and Lexa found silence preferential to lying. Clarke only chuckled in response, and just told Lexa to lead the way back.

“When was the last time you had a visitor?” Clarke asked after a while, breaking the silence as they began nearing the gates to the Underworld.

Lexa would have been embarrassed by how long it took her to remember, but she had long ago stopped caring about her lack of visitors, “My brother, when he came to banish me.” She said after a few seconds, remembering the day well now that she thought back to it.

“That can’t be true,” Clarke balked, looking almost offended on Lexa’s behalf.

“There have been a few gods here and there,” Lexa shrugged, uninterested, “Usually they come begging me to bring back their demigods or their lovers, or telling me to throw someone to Tartarus. But they never come for _me_. They come for my power, or the power they think I possess…” Even to Lexa’s ears, it sounded more than a little sad.

“I’m sorry.” The words surprised her coming from Clarke, who had nothing to be sorry for. She turned to the other Goddess to see her looking at Lexa with a soft sadness, and almost a hint of anger, though not directed at her. “ _I_ come for you,” Clarke smiled, reaching out to squeeze her arm reassuringly.

“Not quite.” Lexa corrected her with a heavy swallow, “You come for my land, and its creatures. You come because I am something exotic to you, foreign. But once I am no longer foreign to you, you will leave like the rest...” She smiled sadly at Clarke, interrupting her when the Goddess was about to argue her point. “It is okay, Clarke. I understand. I know who I am to you all, and I have come to accept it…”

Clarke pursed her lips at that, still looking a little displeased by Lexa’s words but willing to let the matter slide. She was distracted a few seconds later by the sight of Cerberus dutifully guarding the gates, and for once Lexa chose to hold her tongue when Clarke offered Cerberus another honeycake. She was about to head back to the palace, her work with Clarke done, when Clarke pause next to the gates, turning back to cast Lexa a meaningful gaze.

“Maybe someday, someone _will_ come for you…” Clarke trailed a bit shyly.

“Maybe someday,” Lexa agreed with a careful smile, because it was never bad to hope.

* * *

The second time Persephone — Clarke — decided to call upon her for another tour, she had somehow also managed to indoctrinate Lexa’s dog under her spell.

Lexa was rushing to the gates after hearing that something was wrong with her dog, and nightmares had flashed before her eyes of some idiotic hero coming to her realm for the sole purpose of slaying her “three-headed beast” as a conquest. It had happened before, and Lexa always trusted Cerberus to hold his own against those imbeciles, but it did not change the fact that it was near impossible for him to come out unscathed.

When she arrived at the gates, however, it seemed the problem was of another manner entirely.

“You are such a _sweetie_!” Clarke was giggling at the aforementioned “three-headed beast”. A beast who, at this moment, was a bit more occupied with rolling around on the floor than he was with being “beastly”. Lexa watched in shock as her dog wagged his tail and licked at Clarke’s ankles, wiggling around in delight when he received stomach rubs from the Goddess.

“This _cannot_ be happening.” Lexa breathed, closing her eyes in the hopes that this was in fact another nightmare.

But it was not. This was her life now, and she was not quite sure what to do about it.

“Cerberus!” Lexa yelled at him a bit sternly. Because as lovable as he was, playtimes like these were reserved for the palace only, and were _not_ appropriate to do in front of the gates of the Underworld. Here, men should be scared shitless to approach him, _not_ asking if they could pet him.

Oh Gods, they hadn’t even started their tour yet and this was _already_ a disaster.

“What the Styx do you think you’re doing?” She hissed at her dog when he bounded over to her, still in playtime mode. He whined at her, a bit surprised by her displeasure. “ _No_ ,” Lexa said, unwilling to relent under all three of his disappointed faces, “I have already lost my time to her, I _will not_ lose you to her charms as well!” Cerberus tilted his heads, as if thinking about her words, before letting out a hopeful whine and bark, asking her if they could _both_ just lose to Clarke’s charm together.

“I refuse!” Lexa scoffed indignantly, narrowing her eyes at him, “And you do _not_ speak to me that way…” Cerberus lowered his heads in acceptance, releasing the softest of whines, and Lexa rolled her eyes at how easily she fell for his tricks. “ _Fine_ , we can play later. But right now you _work._ ”

The promise of playtime was enough to keep Cerberus happy for now, and he padded back to his post after a series of licks at her face. Clarke, who had been watching the exchange out of earshot, began making her way over to Lexa with a concerned smile.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to get him in trouble…” Clarke said, having the mind to look a bit guilty.

Lexa stared at her for a moment, before letting out a sigh. “Next time you wish to do that, just come into the palace,” she explained, “It’s not good to undermine his authority so close to the gates.” Clarke nodded in understanding, and Lexa decided to leave it at that, somehow finding it much harder to stay mad at Clarke than Cerberus. She offered the Goddess to walk with her to the palace, already mentally preparing for their little tour, even though she had been caught off-guard by Clarke’s appearance. This time, however, she did not think she would need to ask Nyx if six months had truly passed. For some reason, the time between Clarke’s visits had felt longer this time than the last…

“So, how was your day?” Clarke asked suddenly as they made their way to the palace. Lexa frowned at the question, since she’d been expecting Clarke to ask about where they would be going instead.

“Fine.” Lexa shrugged, struggling with the concept of ‘talking about her day’, “How was, uh… How was _your_ day?” She tried, grimacing immediately, because even to her it sounded horribly unnatural.

“Good,” Clarke grinned back, fumbling around in her robes, as if she were searching for something. “I got you something,” she exclaimed before bringing out a flagon of gorgeous red wine, the kind that reminded Lexa of the one she had received a year ago. “I got an offering this morning, and I thought you might like some,” Clarke smiled easily, as if the offer was the most natural thing in the world.

“No, that wine is owed to you. You should have it.” Lexa argued, because, well, sharing an offering was more than just _familiar_ , it was… intimate. It was another deity telling you that you mattered to them deeply, that your happiness was their happiness, and an offering made to them would make them just as happy as if it was offered to you instead. And the mere thought of being looked at in such a way left Lexa’s mind reeling, until Clarke chuckled at her panicked face.

“Don’t worry, I already gave the mortals what they asked for,” Clarke explained with a smile, “It’s an offering with no promises or expectations. Just… wine.”

Lexa released a breath at that, and mirrored Clarke’s smile a bit hesitantly. “I can do just wine,” She agreed, “But… maybe later? We will be traveling far today, and I wouldn’t want you to carry it all the way.” Clarke seemed a bit surprised by that, as if she hadn’t been expecting Lexa to have a plan for the day. But Lexa had not thought much of it. She had already resigned to the fact that the Goddess would be intruding on her time until she got her fill, so there was truly no point in delaying the inevitable.

The plan had been to leave the flagon in Lexa’s throneroom. Except once they were there, Clarke was nowhere to be found. Well, nowhere, and _everywhere_ simultaneously. Inspecting every painted wall and etched window, unfurling the detailed embroidery on all her curtains, and staring in awe at her throne, a look in her eyes that told Lexa she wanted nothing more than to sit in it. A year ago it would have made her groan in annoyance, and six months ago she would have simply sighed. But this time, Lexa was surprised by the little chuckle that spilled from her lips as she took in Clarke’s excitement.

“Persephone,” She interrupted the Goddess’ inspection of her throne, using her formal name since they were not quite alone in the room, “Flattered as I am by how enamored you are by my throneroom, this was _not_ what I had in mind to show you…”

Clarke simply pouted at her somewhat disappointedly, only agreeing to let it go after Lexa promised to give her a tour of the palace another day. Lexa was surprised to find she had not been lying, it was more than a little flattering to see how impressed Clarke was by Lexa’s throne. And when she looked at her current predicament from a similar perspective, she could only find it even _more_ flattering, rather than annoying as she usually did, that Clarke had taken such a deep interest in her world…

“I lay at your mercy, Hades,” Clarke grinned beside her, nudging her shoulder playfully to bring her mind back to the present, “Where are you taking me today?” She smiled in excitement, and Lexa found herself wearing a smile of her own in response.

“Elysium,” She breathed, because what better place was there to take a Goddess as full of life as the one before her.

***

Lexa was surprised to note that Clarke seemed to be far less interested in Elysium than she had been in Lexa’s throneroom. She was awed by the sights, of course, but spent more time asking Lexa questions about herself rather than running around to inspect everything in sight. Lexa, for her part, tried her best to answer her questions, though admittedly a little confused as to why Clarke felt the need to know what Lexa liked to do when she wasn’t glued to her throne.

Still, the time passed by surprisingly smoothly, and Lexa found herself beginning to feel almost comfortable with the other Goddess, in stark comparison to their last trip together.

That was, of course, until Clarke stumbled onto the question Lexa least expected.

“So, where are all of your demigods?” She asked playfully as she trailed behind Lexa, watching as the citizens of Elysium lazed about the endless flower-filled meadows, “I would be expecting them to be rushing to you the second you stepped foot in this place…”

“I have none,” was all Lexa replied, her throat tight and heart clenching.

“None?” Clarke chuckled, narrowing her eyes at Lexa playfully, “You claim to tell me you’ve been celibate all these years?” It was not Clarke’s fault she did not sense the shift in Lexa’s mood, since she had long ago perfected the art of hiding her feelings, no matter how turbulent. In that moment, however, all the emotions boiling below the surface of Lexa’s calm exterior decided to direct themselves squarely at Clarke, at no fault of her own.

“Why does this matter to you?!” Lexa found herself growling all at once, turning to confront Clarke in a manner she only did her enemies, her eyes glistening dangerously.

“I—” Clarke faltered, looking taken aback by the outburst amid their perfectly civil conversation, “You’re right, it doesn’t matter.” Clarke attempting to reassure her, reaching for Lexa’s arm, but not able to hang on when Lexa shrugged her grip away, “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, Hades.” She smiled disarmingly, her eyes seeming to peer into Lexa’s soul.

“Don’t do that.” Lexa clenched her jaw, exacerbated by the look of understanding on Clarke’s face, “Don’t say that to me.”

“What did I say?” Clarke asked worriedly, her brows furrowing as she thought back to her words.

“Don’t act like you care,” Lexa said, feeling herself begin to tremble with emotion, “Because you don’t care. You’re not here to _care,_ Persephone. You’re here to see the sights, enjoy your little _deviance_ into the Underworld, and then go home to brag about how you fooled Hades to think you would do anything else!” She regretted her words almost as soon as she said them. Because although she wasn’t quite sure how true they might be, she hated the way they made Clarke’s face fall, and her eyes harden with hurt.

“I’m sorry,” Lexa said after a moment had passed, finding that the words did not do enough to express her regret, “I did not mean what I said, I’m sorry…” She had ruined it now, she could tell. Whatever acquaintance it was was she had with Clarke, she had ruined it, like she ruined every other living thing that came close enough to touch her…

“Maybe we should just…” Clarke trailed, and Lexa’s heart stopped as she waited for the Goddess to demand they go back home, “sit down?” She asked instead, and Lexa turned to her and saw nothing but patience in her cautious smile. A second chance, and one she would gladly take.

“Yes,” Lexa breathed, more relieved than she had expected to be, “Yes, that would be good.”

They sat in the grass in silence for several minutes, Lexa working to calm herself down, and Clarke doing a horrible job at hiding the fact that she was watching Lexa, worry shining clear in her eyes. It almost made her angry, that Clarke still seemed to be concerned for her after an outburst like that. But she supposed that was part of what made her Clarke, after all.

“I had a demigod once,” Lexa found herself admitting, and with that breath it felt like a weight had been lifted off of her body. “It did not end well.”

Clarke let those words sit in the air for another few minutes before asking cautiously. “What happened?”

“He died.” Lexa answered simply, and it amazed her even now how she had not seen it coming, “Just as they all die. Just as his mother died.”

“Hades…” Clarke breathed, and Lexa could tell with how her voice broke that she was close to tears already. It was not uncommon for demigods to die, of course, but Lexa hardly experienced death like the rest of Olympus did, and it was a different thing altogether to watch it happen.

“I do not know how the other gods remember their children and lovers after death, but I…” Lexa took a moment to swallow down her emotions, her gaze locked at an arbitrary blade of grass as she begged herself not to break, “All I remember is the look on their faces when they stood before me for their judgment.”

She felt a weight on her shoulder, and turned to feel Clarke’s head tentatively resting there. It was a comfort she was more than willing to take, and one she did not think she deserved.

“Are they here?” Clarke asked carefully, though she no doubt knew the answer already.

Lexa shook her head, and sighed at her own failure.

“It was my mistake,” she admitted with a rueful smile, “I spoiled him every chance I had. Sheltered him too much for him to have anything heroic to his name. I was always scared he would die trying to be Hercules. But I was foolish. Because I cursed him out of Elysium.” Lexa felt a squeeze at her arm, where Clarke’s fingers had curled around her, thankful for the gesture. “He strands the plains of Asphodel now, as aimless in death as I had made him in life.” Lexa paused again, finding it surprising difficult to recount this part of the story, even after all these years.

“His mother was raised as a mercenary long before she met me…” Lexa smiled, remembering how it had been something she always admired about Costia. The fact that she had been brought up as nothing more than a machine, but had still managed to find her way out as a new person. She had never forgotten, forever plagued by guilt, even when Lexa reminded her that she had simply been a pawn for someone else to use. She had not thought much more of it, back then. She had been thinking of nothing more than the present. Nothing more than Costia’s love, and warmth, and beauty. She had been thinking of life, and not death. But she should have been, because of those two things, death was the only one that was inevitable.

“There is only one place for mortals who have that much death on their hands,” Lexa said, hoping she wouldn’t have to elaborate any further. “My hands were tied, the decision was not up to me. It never is.” But how much she had wished it had, on that day. Sat there, staring at Costia’s tear-streaked face, her entire body begging her to throw all her _ridiculous_ rules down the Styx. Because this was _her_ realm, _her_ kingdom, _her_ law, and there was no reason _her_ lover should have to spend the rest of eternity being tortured in the pits of Tartarus.

No reason, except that it was what justice demanded. And Lexa had always been nothing more than its vessel, even when it tore her apart to be so.

“So no, I have never sired a demigod after that,” Lexa concluded with deep sigh, “and I never will again.” She turned to look at Clarke, not quite knowing what to expect, and was surprised to find the Goddess’ face overflowing with tears. It tugged something in her chest, seeing Clarke crying over something that had nothing to do with her life. She reached out almost instinctively, letting her thumb run along Clarke’s cheek to wipe away a tear. When the action earned her a soft smile, she did the same with the other side. This time, Clarke caught her hand before it could retreat, holding it in her hands. And somehow, Lexa found herself content to let her do just that.

“I wish they could see you, like this,” Clarke murmured, looking at her intensely, “They see the worst in you when they hardly know you.” Lexa did not know what she could say to that. It was the first time someone had admitted it to her, finally spoken the words she had always thought to herself. And it was validating in a way she never quite knew she needed.

Clarke looked away from her for a second and licked her lips, as if steeling herself to say something she was hesitant to admit.

“I wanted to tell you—” Clarke started, taking a deep breath as she met Lexa’s gaze, “I think I meant what I said before. I think part of me does come here for you… The past six months I haven’t been thinking about the Underworld as much as I have you,” Clarke chuckled as a thought occurred to her, “Gods’ sake, even _today_ I haven’t been thinking about the Underworld as much as I have you... What places you like to visit, if there are other things you love as much as flowers, why you chose to rule the Underworld…” Clarke trailed, and Lexa found she had to resist answering every one of those questions as she spoke them, “I want to know you, more than just your world,” Clarke concluded, squeezing Lexa’s hand to drive the point home.

“I come here for _you_ , Hades.” Clarke told her, not a hint of jest or deception in her eyes, “I care about _you_.”

And in that moment the only thing Lexa could think of was how it was an abomination for Clarke to still be forced to call her by that name.

“Lexa,” she breathed before she quite realized she was speaking, “My name is Lexa.”

Clarke’s answering smile was blinding, and brighter than the light that illuminated the Elysian skies. “It’s beautiful.” Clarke replied, and it was as if she took the words right out of Lexa’s mouth.

After several more stolen moments sitting in the Elysian grass, they made their way back to the palace without speaking another word of it, both a bit unsure of what had just transpired, but content to just be in the other’s company. And all Lexa knew in this moment, was that she had never been happier to share a flagon of wine with another God as she was with Clarke…

Cerberus snuck his way back into the palace right as Clarke was about to leave, letting the Goddess pet her before settling next to Lexa and rumbling softly. “Yes, I agree Cerberus,” Lexa smiled, petting Cerberus absentmindedly as she watched Clarke make her way out of the palace, “She has something to her, that girl…” Cerberus rumbled something in reply that sounded an awful lot like _‘group play date?’_ , with a hopeful little waggle of his tail. “Easy, don’t get ahead of yourself just yet.” Lexa chuckled, and he let out another series of rumbles and snorts that she did not dignify with a translation, “I thought I told you not to speak to me that way.” Lexa scolded playfully through narrowed eyes, almost expecting it when Cerberus did it a second time, following it with a smug little bark.

“Cheeky pup,” Lexa laughed, petting his heads with a fond smile, “Never change…”

* * *

The third time Clarke visited her in the Underworld, Lexa had been waiting for her.

It had felt longer than six months should, Lexa thought. This time, she had asked Nyx to keep an eye on the date and inform her when the six month mark came close. It hadn’t quite worked as planned, unfortunately. Because, according to Anya, Lexa had the habit of asking her if six months had passed roughly once every month…

But eventually, six months had passed by, as time often did, and Lexa found herself bored out of her mind waiting in her throneroom, adjudicating one subject after another without much interest.

“Styk’s sake,” Anya grumbled at Lexa’s obviously dejected form, “Just let me got up to Olympus and ask her what’s taking her so long.” She suggested for the tenth time in the past hour.

“No,” Lexa rejected for the tenth time, frustrated that Anya didn’t seem to understand, “That is not how we do things. She and I have a system.”

Anya just sighed, and rolled her eyes, giving up on the God and muttering something Lexa likely wouldn’t want to hear as she walked away.

After another hour of mindless waiting, Lexa decided that it was likely best to just assume Clarke wouldn’t be coming. That perhaps Lexa had mixed up the day, or Clarke had mixed up the day, or maybe Clarke was just too busy today, or assumed _Lexa_ would be too busy, or—

“Why the sullen look? Are you scared of not being Cerberus’ favorite deity anymore?” Lexa heard from across the throneroom, and jerked herself upright in search of the familiar voice.

Clarke was grinning at her from the palace entrance, making her way inside as if she wasn’t half a day late. This time she didn’t seem to care much about the elaborate decor of the throneroom, her gaze fixed only on Lexa as she made her way to the throne.

“You came,” Lexa breathed with wonder, not very successful at hiding the relief in her voice.

“Of course I came. We have a system.” Clarke replied easily.

“That is what I told Anya,” Lexa chuckled, her smile widening in response to Clarke’s confused frown. “Nyx,” Lexa explained, and Clarke nodded in recognition. It was probably more than a little improper to share Nyx’s true name with Clarke without having asked for permission, and Lexa found herself feeling a bit guilty about the slip. But still, she found that she trusted Clarke to keep Anya’s name to herself, just as she had kept Lexa’s.

“I didn’t know you would be so worried,” Clarke said, looking guilty to have kept her waiting, “I only came late because we have to do this at nighttime.”

“Nighttime?” Lexa repeated as a question, generally familiar with the concept, but not understanding why it would be relevant in a world without sun. “Where would we be going that requires nighttime?” She had planned to take Clarke to Asphodel this time, expecting the Goddess to be especially intrigued by the forms of grain that grew in the fertile soil there. And even though there was a chance — no, a certainty — that she would come upon her demigod son in those fields, Lexa had decided that the risk may be worth it to show Clarke more of her world.

“We’re going to the mortal world, of course” Clarke informed her instead, looking like someone who had a plan in mind, “This time _I_ _’m_ taking you on a tour…”

And for once Lexa found herself ready to throw away her own plans for Clarke’s, not finding a bone in her body that was willing to object.

***

Of all the places she would have thought worthy of a visit in the mortal world… standing in a plain meadow in the middle of the night was not very high among them. Still, she was sure that Clarke had something interesting in mind having brought her here. And just as Clarke had done in their first visit to the gardens, Lexa tried to suppress the questions brimming in her chest, and simply… trust her.

After a few more minutes of silence and darkness, Clarke turned to face her with an excited grin, asking in a whisper, “Are you ready?”

“I…um, think so?” Lexa said, more than a little confused as to what she should be ready for exactly.

The answer made itself known after another minute. She almost didn’t notice them at first, expecting something grand and magical to happen with how excited Clarke was. Perhaps a Pegasus, or a Nymph, though Lexa did not think she would have found either of those things as interesting as Clarke seemed to expect. It didn’t matter, though, because what appeared before the two of the was about a thousand times smaller in magnitude than a Pegasus, and yet more beautiful than any could hope to be.

“What…” Lexa trailed, confused and yet enamored by the cloud of bright stars that had begin populating the meadow around them. Stars that seemed to be within reach, and yet burned as brightly as the constellations above them.

“Fireflies,” Clarke explained in a hushed whisper, her own eyes never leaving Lexa’s as she took in the surprise and awe that was no doubt written on her face.

It was beyond a thing of beauty, Lexa thought. It was magical, and yet at the same time perfectly mortal. As the stars came closer, she could sense more clearly what they were. Little living creatures buzzing around the meadow, all carrying a little blinking light of their own, and dancing with each other as if in a ritual.

A few of them began to approach, as if blinking to her in greeting, and Lexa found herself frozen still, and unsure of what to do.

“Here,” Clarke whispered from behind her, intertwining one of Lexa’s hands with her own, and lifting it palm-up, “just hold your hand out like this…” Clarke took a step closer, and Lexa could feel the Goddess’ body flush behind her, much closer than it had ever been, but in that moment she could not think of any reason to ask her to move away.

Slowly, cautiously, the blinking creatures came closer, as if curious to inspect the two Gods. Lexa knew of some mortal animals that were able to sense the presence of a God, and could only wonder if these blinking stars Clarke called “fireflies” were able to do the same.

They circled around her several times, intrigued, and it was only when Clarke lifted Lexa’s hand a bit higher that one of them finally settled onto her palm. Ticklish, blinking, and oh so beautiful…

“See?” Clarke whispered from behind her, settling her chin on Lexa’s other shoulder as she watched Lexa with a smile on her lips, “Not everything you touch dies, Lexa,” she said softly, squeezing Lexa’s hand when another firefly settled in her palm, “ _They_ _’re_ alive, and they like you…”

Lexa found that the growing lump in her throat was making it impossible for her to speak. She thought back to that moment she had seen her Nychbloom wilt in her fingers, and watched the fireflies in her hand, overwhelmed and overjoyed to see that their light was still blinking; still _alive_. That she was holding two little lives in the palm of her hands, and they had not yet died after a minute of enduring her touch. If anything, Lexa almost thought they seemed to blink a bit brighter, a bit more often, as if reminding her that the names they called her did not define her. That she was not death. She was not darkness. And that something as beautiful as these little creatures could bear to touch her and live on in spite of it.

Lexa did not realize she was crying until she felt gentle fingers brushing against her cheek, wiping away the wetness as it made its way down. She turn to Clarke then, as much as she could turn without disturbing the fireflies or breaking their embrace, and struggled to express to her the sheer significance of the moment Clarke had just given her.

“You…” Lexa croaked, unable to continue even as her mind population a hundred things she wished she could say.

—You’re amazing.

—You’re beautiful.

—You don’t make me feel so alone.

“I know,” Clarke just replied with a soft smile Lexa hoped was reserved just for her, “I know, Lexa.”

And somehow, Lexa believed she did.

They stared at each other for several long seconds, Clarke occasionally reaching up to wipe away her tears, and Lexa still struggling with what to say. Until Clarke turned her attention back to fireflies, putting an end to their closeness, but not to their moment.

“Here,” she instructed, using her other hand to slowly curl Lexa’s fingers shut around the fireflies. Lexa frowned as she realized what the Goddess was doing, and resisted the pull of her fingers.

“I fear I might crush them,” Lexa said, genuinely concerned, and Clarke only looked at her like she was the cutest thing she had ever seen.

“You won’t,” Clarke assured her with a smile, waiting for Lexa’s nod before continuing to close her fingers into a fist. Lexa saw one of the fireflies slip from her grasp, but the second one was still there as she closed her fist, tickling her palm as if trying to negotiate the terms of its release.

“Now… make a wish,” Clarke said, both her hands still cradling Lexa’s fist.

“To whom?” Lexa asked, confused, but Clarke only smiled at the question.

“No one, everyone.” She shrugged, “It doesn’t have to be a prayer. Just think. What do you want most right now, in this moment?” Lexa closed her eyes for a second and _thought,_ and found herself more than a little surprised by what she found.

Lexa made her wish, swallowing down her emotion as she regarded her closed fist. “Please don’t tell me I need to kill this creature for my wish to come true?” She asked, more than a little concerned that it would be so. And as much as she would like her wish to come true, she did not think she had the ability to sacrifice such a beautiful being.

“No,” Clarke chuckled, grinning as she let go of Lexa’s hand, “Now you just have to let it go...”

Lexa did as the Goddess asked and unfurled her first to find the still-blinking firefly. It did not waste any time to fly away, and though Lexa felt a little saddened by its loss, she felt equally hopeful about her wish.

“What did you wish for?” Clarke was asking her, untangling herself from Lexa’s body, and coming to stand in front of her. And as she took in the sight before her, the brightness of Clarke surrounded by hundreds of little stars, Lexa did not think there was a single place in Olympus or Elysium that could rival its beauty.

Lexa hesitated at the question, before deciding she was the only one who could make her wish come true. “This,” Lexa murmured, reaching out to cup Clarke’s jaw in one fluid motion, and pulling her forward until their lips crashed together.

Kissing Clarke was unlike anything she had ever felt, Lexa thought. She had only every kissed mortals before — _a_ mortal, Costia — but this felt like another experience entirely. With Costia, she had always been tentative, careful not to lose herself at any given moment, because she of all people knew how easy it was for mortals to snap in half like a twig. Costia had always held back as well, intimidated by the fact that she was a mortal laying with a God. They had fit, of course, but never _quite_ right.

But with Clarke, all of her reservations seemed to be lost somewhere in the Styx, along with her mind. The Goddess had responded to her lips instantly, her hands tangling themselves in Lexa’s hair, and pulling her ever-closer with an eagerness Lexa had not expected. She could feel Clarke’s smile against her lips, and for some reason it made Lexa’s own heart flutter happily. It was like being lost in someone, she realized, except for the fact that Lexa was never really lost at all. Because if there was a place where Clarke would occupy her senses wherever she turned, then that was exactly where Lexa wanted to be…

They tried to separate three times before it finally stuck, their foreheads resting against each other as they came back to Earth. And when Lexa opened her eyes, she saw Clarke gazing at her with the softest look she had ever seen.

“You didn’t have to wish for that,” Clarke told her, a fond smile on her lips as she leaned forward to nuzzle her nose against Lexa’s. “It would have happened eventually, you know.”

“Would it have?” Lexa asked, because even now it seemed like something out of a dream.

“Yes,” Clarke smiled, a hint of mischievousness in her eyes, “Kind of like this…” she trailed before claiming Lexa’s lips again.

Even after so little practice, Clarke’s lips were already becoming dangerously adept at distracting her. Lexa realized this when she felt the roughness of bark against her back, and found herself having trouble remembering when she had gotten there. Even worse, she found herself not caring the slightest, instead busying herself with pulling Clarke tighter against her, and parting her lips to deepen their kiss.

This time, when they parted it was not of their own will. Instead it was Lexa hearing something in a distance. A voice, sounding like something between a young girl and a woman. She pulled away from Clarke rather abruptly, sobering instantly as she scanned the little meadow they had been so busy making their own.

“Wha— What’s wrong,” Clarke asked her, looking a bit dazed, yet still frustratingly adorable with her confused frown.

“We should go back,” Lexa said, finally spotting a figure in the distance. A wood Nymph, giggling behind the trees, watching them with amused eyes. Watching. And soon, she would no doubt be _talking_.

“Why?” Clarke asked, scoffing in disbelief when she followed Lexa’s line of sight. “Gods, it’s just a Nymph, Lexa… She probably doesn’t even know who you are!”

“We should leave,” was all the reply Lexa gave. The thought that the Nymph probably recognized Persephone and not _her_ felt like a splash of cold water that brought her back to reality. Because as perfect a fit as the two of them had felt, Lexa knew that it was something that could never be allowed to happen. Because Persephone was Persephone, and Hades was—

“No, don’t do that.” Clarke interrupted her thoughts, her voice surprisingly stern. Her face was even more so, looking almost angry when Lexa turned to face her. But Lexa stood her ground, more than adept at hiding her emotions.

“I’m not doing anything, Persephone.” Lexa replied easily, and saw Clarke flinch at the use of that name.

“Yes, you _are_ ,” Clarke said, frustrated as she took a step closer to shrink the gap Lexa had created, “I can see you pulling away. From me, from _this_.” Clarke squared up to her, a finger resting on her chest and ready to poke her as she had the day they met, “There’s something here, something _real_. And you don’t get to walk away from it!”

“It doesn’t matter, Clarke,” Lexa sighed, “Because you’re _Persephone_ , and I’m—”

“You’re what?” Clarke challenged angrily, an edge to her voice as she stared Lexa down. “You’re kind, and sweet? You’re the opposite of what every myth says about you?” Clarke continued, the anger and frustration in her voice conflicting with her words. “I don’t fall for those myths, Lexa. The rest of Olympus might, but I can _see_ you.” She softened, reaching out for Lexa’s hand, and relaxing further when the other God let her hold it. “I can see how deeply you _feel_ , in a way no one else does. The sacrifices you’ve made when no one asked you to. The good you’ve done… It amazes me how you manage to have such a big heart while keeping it so hidden.”

“You can do anything with enough practice,” Lexa explained through a tight throat, her walls already collapsing again in the face of Clarke’s soft words, and the Nymph fading from her thoughts.

“We can leave if you want,” Clarke reassured her, the anger gone from her voice, but the look in her eyes signifying she would stand her ground **,** “But tell me you’ll let me come again. Please. Every month?”

“I would run out of places to show you,” Lexa tried to argue, though they could both tell the attempt was half-hearted.

“You don’t have to show me anything,” Clarke smiled, and Lexa knew it was true, “I just want to be around you, walk with you, talk with you…” Clarke closed the remaining gap between them to lean her forehead against Lexa’s once again, and Lexa found herself sighing at the contact. “Please? The last six months passed by so slowly without you.”

Lexa found herself struck by the statement, because that much had been true even for her. She leaned back to look at Clarke, judging the validity of her claim. Because the thought that Clarke had missed her presence — _hers,_ not her kingdom’s — as much as Lexa had missed her was dangerous to consider if it turned out to be untrue. But Lexa saw nothing in Clarke’s eyes that could hint at deception, just hopefulness and a deep caring laid bare in her eyes, as if she had no need to ever hide her emotions.

Even still, Lexa wanted to say no — almost _did_ say no — before she was halted by the prospect of spending another six months without the other Goddess, and how much worse the time would go now that she knew what it felt to hold her so close.

“Okay.” Lexa agreed with some hesitation, letting herself be selfish for once when it came to Clarke. She looked at the open emotion shining in Clarke’s eyes, and decided she owed her some in return. “I would like that very much, Clarke,” she admitted a bit shyly, and it was worth it for the smile it brought to Clarke’s face.

Clare reached forward to lay the softest peck on her lips that tasted like something between a thank you and a promise. And as Lexa felt herself slip back into the spell of infatuation and desire that Clarke had cast on her, another thought suddenly occurred to her that had her frozen in place.

“Is this… Are you doing all of this because of your mother?” She asked, wondering how she had not thought to consider it sooner, and now incapable of getting the possibility out of her mind.

“Lexa…” Clarke cast her a fond look, like she was ridiculous for even asking, “This stopped having anything to do with my mother the first day I met you…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this didn’t feel too fast. As the tags state, this was never meant to be a slow burn, and even though they’ve had their first kiss(es), they’ve still got a little ways to go before their happy ending.
> 
> Also I may or may not be thinking about adding a bonus chapter that’s literally just Cerberus being a good boy for a full day… I need some Cerberus POV in my life.
> 
> Love your comments and support as always <3

**Author's Note:**

> Also wanted to put some feelers out regarding something unrelated to this fic. I’m looking for a potential collaborator/co-writer for a lighthearted **College Bet AU fic** that’s been a side project [(Here’s a Ch1 draft)](https://imgur.com/a/DZRKRCu). Still, I don’t have too much experience writing full College AU fics. Optimally I’d like to have someone on board willing to co-write with me in whatever capacity they prefer. But if that’s not tenable, just someone to bounce ideas and scenes off of would be great. They would obviously be a properly credited co-creator on ao3.
> 
> Anyway, if anyone finds this intiguing hmu on [tumblr](https://comeyellatmehere.tumblr.com/). I’ve always wanted to co-author a project, and this seems like a good time for it!


End file.
